I Begrudge You, Not a Thing
by Echoes of a Bird of Prey
Summary: A one shot of betrayal, an impossible decision and a woman who will do what needs to be done to save her marriage and family. Not all is what it seems and sometimes you just need to cry.


If you are a regular reader of mine I must warn you this is not going to be like what's usually write, but I needed to write something that hurts and makes me cry, I needed something cathartic. This plot really surprises me because this was so out of my comfort zone and goes against my own personal values but at the same time I needed to write it. Please enjoy my first ONE SHOT

This is is for VAGypsy. Happy belated birthday, love ya girl!

"Hurry the hell up, El Flamo!" I whine to my buddy Christian, banging on the door to the computer room.

Usually, there isn't a long wait to use Skype, or whatever, but our Bases' computers were amazingly outdated to begin with and all have bit the dust but one, which Christian has been hogging ten minutes passed his allotted time.

"Man, Rosie, leave me alone, Lissa just took off her top!" Christian yells through the door.

"Christian!" A female voice hisses, embarrassedly.

"You're such a rookie, Flame Boy, they observe all our convos, phone or skype!"

And by '_they_' I mean the government and maybe our superiors, who knows really.

One of the _joys_ of being in the Military.

Or more specifically for us, the Air Force.

About two seconds after my comment I hear a shrill scream, I know came from his girlfriend, but where's the fun in that?

"Was that you, Fire crotch?" I tease in a sing song voice. "Do you need some vagisil, or a tampon or something?" I begin to cackle.

"Don't listen to her, Liss, she's just messing with us so that I'll get off!"

"I'm not lying and if you _get off _anywhere near our one working computer, I will castrate you, you walking fire hazard!"

"It was only one fire, for Christ's sake, get off my back about it, ya bitch!" He screeches.

I laugh and continue to pound on the door, to the tune of Iron man in my head.

There was no malice to his words, so I take no offense, even though I am his superior.

I've been in the Air Force for ten years, Chris only two, but he is definitely my greatest friend, we've been in sticky situations together and no amount of years or titles will change the bond that goes along with saving each others lives like we have.

So we abuse each other in a friendly-guy way when no one is around. When others _are_ around, especially our superiors, it's almost always business.

Still banging on the door, nonstop, I call out, "Come on, Chris, I want to talk to my husband and kids before they have to go to bed."

"Fine, just lemme say goodbye!" He concedes.

I stop my pounding and let them end their conversation in peace.

Airman 1st Class Christian Ozera is a good guy, one of the best. Not as good as my guy back home, but damn close.

Speaking of my guy, I can't wait to see him and my babies, if only Sparky will hurry the fuck up!

The door opens suddenly, startlingly me, and Chris walks out towering over me, a shit eating grin on his face, pale blue eyes sparkling and his short black hair a little mussed. As much as a military cut, grown out a little bit on top, can be mussed.

He's going to have to cut it soon.

"All yours, Senior Master Sergeant Belikova." He salutes sarcastically.

I respond by punching him in the tit.

"Ow, fuck, Rosie, that hurt." He whines, rubbing his left peck, covered in Army green.

An _ugly_ ass color. Thank God I only have six more months of wearing it and then I swear it's nothing but bright, beautiful colors. Reds and blues and pinks.

Lots of pink. My man _loves_ the girlie girl look.

"How's Lissa?" I ask pleasantly, ignoring his pain.

His smile returns, full bloom.

"She's great; started her residency yesterday." His smiles proudly.

I smiley tightly back at him.

"I'm surprised you asked." He eyes me.

"And why is that?" Not that I don't already know the answer.

"I get a feeling from you, that you don't really care for her." He answers, crossing his arms over his sinewy chest and leaning against the door jam.

"I don't even know her." I reply diplomatically.

"You always get a look when I mention her. Why?" I can tell he means business but I still think carefully over my words.

"I just don't want to see you hurt and from what you told me she seems . . ."

"Seems? . ." He encourages.

I purse my lips, not wanting to play this game anymore.

"Free-spirited." I finish.

"Free-spirited?"

"_Excitable_."

"Excitable? You think she'll cheat on me?" He asks, his tone defiant.

I _so do not _want to talk about this.

I raise my hands in surrender, "Like I said, I don't know her."

"No, you don't." He agrees, put off by my confession.

"I don't." I agree.

"I'll see you later, Rosie." He smiles a little sadly but turns sly as he walks away.

"What's with that creepy ass smile?" I ask.

"Well despite our little talk, I just saw nipples that don't belong to another guy." He winks and jumps in the air to click his heels.

I laugh, a deep belly laugh at his retreating figure.

What a man.

Forgetting about my bestfriend and the woman I don't quite trust, I practically skip to the computer and log onto my Skype account.

With each tap of the keyboard a new sense of giddiness hits me. I haven't been able to talk to my family in almost two weeks, what with every Solider needing a turn on the computer.

Which epically sucks since I've been gone from them for six months, stationed in England, which is pretty rare when in the Air Force and insanely unwelcomed with my family situation.

By the time I was relocated here when it was time to be deployed, I was already married to my Russian God and had given birth to our first child DJ.

Home is in California, and unfortunately my husbands' job didn't allow him to come and live on base with me.

He owns a protection agency and sometimes works as a bodyguard himself. Of course, owning a business of any kind requires hard work and dedication but especially one that involves the well fare of another human being. He _is_ his business, so there was never a chance of him traveling this far with me.

It's a hard life. Usually when I'm deployed over here I get three weeks off every six months, but it's never enough. Not by a long shot.

I was supposed to get time off two week ago, but we had an anthrax threat, which we're still dealing with even though it seems bogus. Can't be too careful, though. Now I don't get to leave until my retirement in six more months.

Usually I would just get to leave a little late, a few weeks at most, but I was asked to stay until the end of my last deployment, and lead a recon investigation of where we think the threat came from and they want me to be _thorough_, which really means time consuming.

Me being given this assignment didn't surprise me, I've been in the Air Force nearly ten years, promoted SMSgt a few months ago, and I am damn good at my job.

Nobody flys, like I fly.

It took a cool ass minute, but My man finally took the call and I feel myself smile wide as I see his handsome face fill up my screen.

"Dimitri!" I basically moan.

My hubby looks _good_, let me fucking tell you.

He has tan skin, long curly dark brown hair, that feels like fuckin silk, which reaches the middle of his back, even longer when wet. It's rare for curly hair to be smooth, let alone silky, but my man is a god . . . _So yeah. _Bottomless hazel eyes, a wide smile with perfect teeth and deep dimples.

Which . . . Are not showing.

Actually, he looks . . . _Grim_.

"Dimitri what's wr-" I asks worriedly but I'm interrupted by three squeals.

"Momma!" Three new heads fight to get in the picture as Dimitri moves out of their way.

"Hi, babies!" I coo, monetarily forgetting how down he looked.

My oldest, Dimitri Jr.(DJ), who is five, looks like an exact replica of his daddy, right done to the curls and dimples. I'm glad I get to at least see them on _someone's_ face tonight.

Our twin girls, Sia and Ramsey, who are three, look like a perfect mixture of the both of us.

I talk with my babies, or try as best I can with them all speaking over each other. I giggle at their stories and _ohhh_ and ahhh over art work, missing teeth and bruises my son proudly shows me from his Judo class.

"This bruise on my elbow, right here, mom, I got when I did my first summersault which ended in a spinning kick! I tripped and fell, it was awesome!"

My kid is crazy.

It felt like only a minute had passed, but was probably 15, before Dimitri was ushering the kids off to bed, instructing DJ to help his sisters with their night time routines.

God, I can't wait until I can be the one to help with PJs and bed time stories.

"Bye bye, momma, we love you!" Sia presses a wet kiss on the camera, followed by Ramsey.

I giggle and try to keep my tears at bay.

"I love you all, too, more than the world and stars and Taco Bell!"

Once they are up the stairs, DJ being a good big brother and making sure his baby sisters got up safely, one in each hand, Dimitri sits back down, his face down cast.

Ok, this is scary. I've never seen Dimitri like this when we chat. We always joke and flirt and tease.

"Baby, what's wrong? Did something happen to Yeva? Is she no longer in remission?" Oh god if something happened to Dimitri's Babushka, I don't know what I'll do, I love that woman so much. When we found out she had breast cancer a year ago, we were all beyond devastated.

And she's such a stubborn old bat, constantly down playing her pain, she's the worst person to take care of, because she won't let you.

Much to my relief, Dimitri shakes his head and I let out a sigh.

"Rose . . . " He gasps, rubbing his hand across his face.

Rose. Not _Roza_, which he always calls me. My name in Russian.

Oh god, it's _bad_.

"What is it, Dimka, you're scaring me." I whisper, my heart pounding in my throat.

"I did something, baby." He whispers, his Russian accent strangled; he doesn't look at me.

What could he have possible done that would make him feel like this?

The kids are fine, he doesn't drink, he hasn't gambled in years. Ah shit.

"Honey, Did you start gambling again, baby? It's ok, we can move past it, no matter what, no matter how much you owe, everything will be fi-"

"No, No, I didn't start gambling again." He interjects.

God, I hate this. I can't imagine him doing anything else.

"What is it than, Dimitri? The four play is getting old." I almost shout, terrified.

"I almost had sex with someone else." He cries, trying to wipe away his tears before they could fall, but it's wasted.

As soon as the words left his mouth the temperature in the room seemed to drop at least fifty degrees and I felt like shivering and convulsing.

My mouth goes dry and my heart hurts, my whole body is so stiff it hurts. I can't get my mouth to work or my lungs or brain.

Well, if my mind isn't working than, maybe . . . I _imagined_ it.

I mean, I was so preoccupied trying to figure out what he was going to say, maybe my subconscious just interpreted the _worst _possible thing it could, to match his erratic behavior.

That fantasy lasts only as long as Dimitri's explanation does.

"I'm _so_ sorry, baby." He sobs. "It was when you told me you weren't coming home. I was missing you like _fucking crazy,_ I always miss you so goddamn much, but this time is so much harder 'cause my mom's not here to help with the kids, work is kicking my ass, I'm having problems with my citizenship, 'cause the immigration office lost our marriage certificate and I got so goddamn angry. I had the neighbors watch the kids and I went to a bar and got_ so _drunk and before I knew it, I was kissing this woman and I went home with her and I almost had sex with her, I was so out of my mind missing you and being intimate with you and she looked kinda like you. I'm so fucking sorry, Roza."

He continues to sob, one fist beating against his forehead.

I can't move. I can't _breathe_.

My eyes and mouth are wide open but I can't fucking move.

I try to talk, to beg him to tell me he's joking, but all that comes from me is a strangled cry.

That catches his attention and he finally looks up at me, tear stains marring his handsome face.

This is _not_ happening.

"I promise you, baby, we didn't have sex, just kissed and . . . And she . . . She went down on me, that's it, I swear, I will never do anything like this ever again, Roza, you gotta believe me. I'm so sorry."

This isn't happening.

"Roza?"

Oh god, This is happening. It really is. It can't, but it is. _He did_.

"Please, say something. Yell at me, cuss me out, say _something!_"

I close my eyes and my tears fall. Soft and slow and hot.

"Say something, Roza." He growls.

"I have to go." I croak out, my voice cracking and whinny with unshed agony.

Before Dimitri could respond I turned off the computer, by the monitor and got up, so fast, I knocked the chair down.

_Keep it together, Rose. Just for a few more minutes. _

I rushed to the door on numb legs and tried to open it, but I can't get my fucking hands to work. _What's wrong with me?_

Turns out I didn't need to anyways. Someone opened the door for me.

I know that . . . I know them . . . But I can't, I can't see them, they're not there, not really.

I know they're talking to me, but I can't hear what they're saying. I just rush past them, the small part of me still in control of my emotions hopes fleetingly they aren't a higher rank than me.

I break out into a run, not understanding how my legs are carrying me when I can't feel them, until I get to my secret hiding place. I can't describe it, I can't see it or remember what it looks like, but I know it's beautiful.

And I break.

ONE WEEK LATER

In one week of complete and utter despair, I'm pretty sure I've experienced every emotion under the sun, like the sun, but a thousand times hotter.

And not just merely felt them, but bathed in them. Smothered by them. Tortured and left without any skin; any protection against the next zing of pain in whatever form it decides to zaps unto me.

I always used think, _'this, whatever 'this' would be, will never happen to me.' I mean, it's me. ME, so how could it possibly happen? _

I'm sure everyone feels that way about something or another but . . . This is _ME_. How could this happen to _me_?

How could he betray me like this?

I've asked myself a thousand questions over the course of this week but this is definitely the most popular one.

I'm the mother of his children, I've stood beside him during a gambling addiction, and two lawsuits against his company, along with a flurry of other bullshit.

He knew before he married me, what my job was and how hard it was going to be. He knew what he was getting himself into.

Why now? Why the fuck _now_? What happened that now he all of a sudden couldn't handle his shit and had to betray me for a few worthless minutes of getting his _dick sucked_?

I bet he came on her face, too. He loves doing that.

Fucking damn him for making me bitter about some other bitch getting a face full of his cum. _So sorry, but I thought some things were sacred. _

I let out a chuckle at the thought. Which lead to another and another until I'm laughing hysterically, because what else can I do? Cry? My eyes will probably fall out.

"Well, I'm glad you seem to be feeling better. What's so funny?" Christian asks sitting beside me against a building away from prying eyes, totally misreading my mode.

It's not my secret spot. I can never go back there.

"Absolutely-nothing." I reply, meaning every word, giggling hysterically.

Nothing is funny. There's too much pain for there to be humor.

I think this is just a deferent way to release the pain.

I prefer crying. It hurts more. Your eyes burn and dry out after awhile, you feel like you're going to throw up and then you do. It's a nice distraction.

"Than why are you laughing like a hyena?" He asks, giving me a weird look.

"I'm going crazy." I tell him, my laughter slowly dying, a few bubbles of laughter erupting from me periodically.

"Ok, what the hell is going on with you? You haven't been yourself in like a week."

I haven't told Christian, anything.

I haven't told anyone, anything.

I can't admit how I've failed.

It wasn't my fault I failed. It was Dimitris' and anthrax, but none the less, _I failed_.

My man needed to get _it_ somewhere else.

"I'm sorry about what I said about lissa." I whisper, staring at a group of dandelions.

"I appreciate that, Rosie, but why? What changed?"

"I had no right to judge her. Not everything is what seems to be."

I thought my man was all mine and always will be. But nope. My thought process pops the P.

"Thanks, Rosie." I can hear a smile in his voice.

Chris left soon after that and I just continued to stare at the weeds.

Why did he do this to me?

I think the worst part isn't even the cheating but . . . He lied to me.

_"Uh, fuck yes, that's it, Roza, fuck yourself on my cock." Dimitri grunts out as I ride him hard and fast, he's big, strong, calloused hands gripping my hips in a painfully delicious vise grip, urging me along to go even harder and faster. I will absolutely have bruises after this. They'll match the others just fine. _

_I cry out as his thick cock stretches me past the max as we both pound me on top of him in a team effort. _

_Now his length is impressive at seven inches, above average, but his width is just fucking insane. I need both hands to wrap around him and my finger tips just barely overlap. If you look up fat cock in the dictionary you will see a picture of my man. _

_No matter how well prepared I am to take him in, there's always a sting when he enters me, and god, I love it. _

_"Dimitri, I need to come." I moan, the pleasure he's bringing me making me crazy, but it's not enough. _

_"Than come baby, get my dick wet, like you do." _

_"I can't, I can't, Dimitri." I cry, actual tears leaking from my eyes in desperation. _

_Dimitri understands and flips us over so that his monstrous body is on top of me, consuming me and he thrusts his fat cock in my aching pussy like piston. _

_That's all it takes for me to come hard and long, high pitched screams ripping from my throat, his unforgiving fucking making my orgasm go on forever, extra liquid streaming from my pussy and drenching us both, by nails tearing into his back. _

_Through my screaming, I hear Dimitri grunting above me, loudly, like an animal, his strokes in and out Of my body turning sloppy until I feel him shoot his release deep into me, finding his completion. I moan as I feel his hot seed leak out of me coating us both. _

_Our sex is so dirty. _

_"Oh, fucking hell Dimitri, I love you. I love you so much." I cry out as he collapses on top of me, his weight a welcome comfort. _

_"I love you, too, Roza. Don't ever think any deferent." He growls, out of breath. _

_"I'm sorry for getting so jealous tonight. It's just when I saw Tasha try to kiss you, I felt like killing her, you're my man. These are my lips." I moan. _

_I trail feather light kisses until I reach his full lips and suck on the them, his tongue invading my mouth with a chuckle._

_I pull away a little bit to speak. _

_"Don't laugh at me." You can practically hear the pout in my voice. _

_"I like you all jealous over me, baby, but you don't have anything to worry about. I'm your man, and my lips belong to you, I promise." He laughs again. _

_I laugh with him. _

_"Good." _

He's the love of my life, Why did he do this to me?

And goddamn, I still love him so much. Too much. No matter what we've gone through he has always been by my side, and I his. He's always made me feel like the only girl in the world.

What will happen now?

Do I want to leave him. Could I?

No. I can't and I don't want to. I fucking love the bastard and I don't want to lose him.

WHY THE FUCK DID HE HAVE TO DO THIS TO ME?!

I just wish I had more answers . . .

. . . Ah shit, I do.

I've been asking myself this whole time, why would he do this to me, to us, but he already told me.

Not only is work kicking his ass, his very elderly grandmother is in recovery, he has to take care of three very rambunctious kids all by himself for the first time, he has to prove we're married and it was heartbreaking for him when I couldn't come home to him.

And he's been dealing with all of this . . . With no real release. Dimitri is a very sexual, primal man, he needs sex.

Him having to go without sex is like an obsess person going on a diet or a smoker, quit smoking.

And he hasn't had pussy in almost seven months.

Which is hard enough, but work was never difficult for him every other time I've been deployed. None of his family were sick and his mother stayed with him and watched the kids. He didn't have a thousand other things hanging over his head like he does now. And I'm not their to give him release.

Oh god. Am I really justifying what he's done?

I think I am. I just . . . I _want_ to forgive him,_ so bad_. I don't want this to break us. This may make me a stupid woman but, _I love him. _

He was beyond upset, drunk, and under a lot of pressure and stress.

Plus, he didn't have sex with the woman and he told me as soon as he could.

I want us to go back to normal.

I think I can forgive him. Maybe.

But what if things continue to be hard at home for him. Will he do this again?

I don't want him to be in any pain or stress or . . . Anything

I also don't want him to betray me again, but I know Dimitri, he needs sex, especially after so long.

Will he repeat his mistake?

No. He won't do this to me again. I heard his sorrow, I know he feels terrible. I think.

I can forgive. I will. It will just take a little time.

Our love and marriage and family are more important to me than this one slip.

And until I can come home he's just going to have to deal with all the shit he's going through right now.

Which is a lot . . .

Oh, god. I start to cry.

He's _unhappy_. I know he is, he's dealing with everything by himself and it's all my fault.

But what can I do that will help him? I'm thousands of miles away.

He needed the release. He still does.

Will this be too much for him? Will this make him resent me?

My last deployment I felt a tiny bit of resentment coming from him, something I don't even think he could control and I don't blame him.

I can't even imagine now.

I ask myself, how important is his happiness to me?

Very. That's easy.

I don't want him to experience any unnecessary pain, I know my being away is hard.

And I'll be away for at least six more months, maybe even more if this mission proves me to be overtly difficult than what we are anticipating.

I could die.

If I die, and don't tell him I forgive him, he will never forgive himself.

But even if I do tell him I forgive him . . . He'll still be in the same predicament.

How much do I love my husband and want him to be happy?

Could I sacrifice my own happiness for his?

Yes. Yes, I can, he does it for every time I leave him and our family.

I know what I have to do to save us. It's going to kill me, but compared to the alternative, him resenting me and us breaking up, it's a small price of mind to pay.

THREE DAYS LATER

I'm back in the computer room and waiting for Dimitri to accept the face time.

I had to pull some major strings and stay up almost all night to get this spot on the computer but it was worth it.

His face pops up and he does not look good.

He looks tired and haggard and just sad. I'm sure I look the same.

"Roza." He breathes.

"Hi." I whisper.

I don't want to do this anymore.

"Roza, baby, I am so-"

"Stop, Dimitri," I interrupt him. If I don't say what I need to now, I will lose my nerve and nothing will be solved.

"I have something to say and I don't want you to interrupt me."

He nods his consent, looking worried.

By doing what I'm about to do, I am not only the stupidest woman on earth but can take the gold for biggest masochist. But it's the only thing I can think of that will make things easier for him at home.

"I forgive you, Dimka. I know how hard this is for you, this time around especially. And I don't want to lose you, so . . . If that is what you need to do," I smother a sob, "than you just take care of yourself, I swear I wont begrudge you."

"What? Wait . . . Roza! No I-" He nearly shouts.

"Don't interrupt me!" I snap, hanging my head. I can't look at him.

"I don't want you to resent me, Dimitri, I don't want this to break our family! You need to be strong for our kids, you need to be there for them, but also for yourself, and I see you, Dimitri, you're suffering."

I take a big breath, hoping it will calm my panting. It doesn't.

"I have a mission I'm leaving for in a few hours and I don't know when I'll be home, or when I'll be able to write to you. Just do what you need to do, be safe, and don't bring any women around our babies. And when I get home don't tell me anything. Just love me and our kids.

"Roza." He gasps, his face painted with shades of torture.

"Tell my babies I love them, to the moon and back."

I chock on my next words.

"And, please . . . don't fall in love, Dimka." I cry.

I exit the face time before he could respond.

I love him, more than I love myself. Which is very beautiful and extremely unhealthy.

But at least when I get home . . . I might have a happy husband to come home to.

I weep until I pass out.

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Words can't describe how weird it feels to be done with the Air Force. The largest chapter of my life so far is done and now an even bigger one will resume, but this time with no interruptions, no need for a bookmark anymore.

I can finally be a mom, for realsies.

It took eight months, but my mission was completed.

I want to remember it, to talk about it, but it's still too raw. We're about to land and I don't need to have a panic attack right before I get to see my family.

Ahh! I get to see my family!

I feel like singing and dancing and crying.

Never again will I have to part from my children months at a time.

I won't miss another judo match, or school play. Instead of having to look at drawings from the other side of a computer screen, I can color with them.

I get to cook for them, hug them when ever I want, camp in the back yard, read bed time stories, help with baths, kiss boo boos.

I get to be a good mom.

And if Dimitri followed my blessings, a good wife.

The pilot announces we will be landing in ten minutes.

So close.

I space out until we land, but when we do, some people come up to me, people who had been staring at me.

Well more like my uniform.

"Just wanted to say thank you for your service, young woman." An elderly man shakes my hand.

A few more say much the same thing and I thank then as well.

I deeply appreciate the gesture, but I'm so not in the right mind frame for this.

I need my kids and husband.

I just hope my husband needs me.

I'm one of the first to step out of the gate and I'm immediately meet with a chorus of, "Welcome Home, Soldier!" Although I do hear a few mommies mixed in there.

I immediately see my babies and run to them dropping my bag along the way.

They run to me as well and I drop to my knees and hug their small bodies as tight as I can.

"We missed you so much momma! Don't ever leave again!" My little Ramsey cries, DJ and Sia saying much the same.

Oh god, I'm finally home.

I hug them tighter and they hold me tighter still. Six arms squishing me and making me feel loved.

I kiss cheeks and noses and tears and they do the same to me.

After a minute I'm surrounded by all my family and friends passed around like a plate of food at Thanksgiving.

And my Dimitri.

As if time stood still, We stare at each other wordlessly, testing the waters, I have to crane my head to see him, he's so tall.

He looks good, heathy and refreshed.

We stare at each other, a thousand words, emotions and regrets sparkling between us with one look.

Time starts back up again and we hug fiercely, crashing into each other, our kids clutching my legs.

"I'm so sorry." He cries in my ear.

"I forgive you."

"I love you, Roza." He cries harder, smothering me in his tight embrace.

"I know." I whisper to him.

We both did what we needed to do, and now we can start over. Life starts now.

Please review.


End file.
